


Identity Crisis

by TrueIllusion



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Bisexuality, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Gap Filler, Infidelity, Introspection, Light Angst, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 21:58:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17353364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueIllusion/pseuds/TrueIllusion
Summary: One shot. Standalone fic.Introspective S4/S5 gap filler from Lindsay's point-of-view.





	Identity Crisis

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2018 QaF Gift Exchange as a gift for TheaPink on LJ. Request was a story about the girls breaking up and getting back together in canon time, with the song "Just Hold On" as a prompt. The song immediately made me think of their S4/S5 breakup. This is a peek into Lindsay's thoughts during that time.

_Wish that you could build a time machine_  
_So you could see_  
_The things no one can see_  
\--

I don't really know what it was that possessed me to have sex with Sam. Why I felt so attracted to him from the get-go. Why I put on the sexiest outfit I owned and wore it to try to talk him into agreeing to a show at the gallery. Why I decided to "play his game," as Mel had put it, before she even knew what it would wind up referring to. If she'd known, she probably would have never said it.

I don't know why I didn't nip it in the bud. Why I didn't say anything when he grabbed my ass after I nearly face-planted at the top of that damn ladder. Why I just let him do it. Why I let him keep doing it while I was adding red paint to his mural at his request. Why it meant so much to me to have his work at the gallery, that I was willing to sacrifice my dignity for it.

Why I kind of enjoyed having him touch me.

I was a lesbian, right?

I wasn't supposed to be enjoying having a man touch me.

Why was it that the only thing that bothered me was when he brought up Mel and the possibility of a three-way? Was it because then Mel might find out my dirty secret? Did I have a dirty secret?

Why was I willing to allow Sam to treat me like the dirt on the bottom of his shoe, over and over again? Why did I keep coming back for more?

Why had it felt so awkward to have Sam in our home, having dinner? Why was I so embarrassed when Mel showed him my work?

Why did it stir such feelings of desire in me the next day when he suddenly dropped his pants and told me to draw him? Desires I wasn't supposed to have.

Why did I feel just a tiny bit jealous when he kissed that reporter's hand after she interviewed him before his show opened?

Why was this abhorrent man making me act like a schoolgirl with a crush?

Why had he brought up feelings in me that I hadn't felt in years -- enough to make me ask Mel to fuck me with Glenda's magic wand?

It was amazing. She said I was wild. I felt wild. I wanted to do it again.

Only, why was I thinking about Sam the entire time she was doing it?

I tried to stop the runaway train by avoiding Sam entirely. By not going to the gallery opening. Just stopping by later to see how it went.

How could I have possibly known what would happen when I did show up?

I let Mel talk me into going, and then I ended up fucking Sam.

I didn't know what had gotten into me -- why he suddenly became so irresistible that I let him fuck me against the wall while I moaned and writhed. And right after I'd told him off, no less. It was like passion and hatred had melded and mixed and gotten the best of me. It was a mistake. I knew it was a mistake. But it felt so good in the moment.

And so awful afterward.

I hadn't had sex with a man since Brian and I were in college. "Midsummer madness," Brian called it. But I remembered it differently. I remembered it as not half bad, although I'm not sure he enjoyed it as much as I did. To him, it was just a means to an end -- a way to get off. For me, there was more emotional involvement. I loved him, even if he was just my friend at that point. Sex with Brian -- and being with Brian -- was good enough that I started entertaining a fantasy that maybe he and I could be an actual couple. Maybe even get married. Maybe I wouldn't disappoint my parents after all.

To be honest, it had confused me a little, how much I enjoyed being with Brian. How I'd felt attracted to him in an entirely different way after we'd fucked. For years at that point, I'd thought I was a lesbian. Then, suddenly, I wasn't so sure.

But Brian kept being Brian -- fucking everything that moved and had a dick. And eventually, I let my fantasy go, when I realized that Brian was sure about what he wanted, and it wasn't a woman. It wasn't me. It would never be me.

But what was wrong with me that I was so unsure of what I wanted?

I decided to write off the whole experience, and remind myself that I was a lesbian. From there on out, I only dated women. I met Mel the next year, and the rest was history.

Mel and I committed ourselves to each other wholeheartedly, and even bought a house together eventually. We decided to start a family. I convinced Brian to father a child for us, and I convinced Mel to let him. He seemed to be the perfect choice -- he was attractive and smart, and he had good genes. And it fed into my fantasy, just a little bit. The fantasy that I hadn't fully let go of. Brian and I would be bonded forever, even if we weren't together, because we would share a child. Nine months later, Gus was born.

Mel and I were his parents, and Brian dipped in and out of the picture, just like I thought he would but had secretly hoped he wouldn't. Mel cheated on me, and we split up temporarily, but Brian ended up being the one who put us back together.

He was also the one who made our wedding happen, when it seemed like everything that could possibly go wrong, did. Brian was solely responsible for Mel's and my wedding day. That was the Brian Kinney I knew, that it seemed hardly anyone else ever saw. The one who took care of his friends. That was all we were -- friends -- and all we ever would be.

I admitted my crazy college fantasy to Brian as we sat in those blue plastic chairs at the preschool, pretending to be a married couple. It wasn't too far-fetched -- we were Gus's parents, after all. I'm not sure what made me say to him that at one point, when we first met, I'd thought this might be the reality. I asked him if he'd thought that as well. And he just looked at me, a little surprised, and said, "No." I guess that answered my question. I'd never even had a chance.

Why had I even wanted one in the first place? I was a lesbian, right?

I'd only been with women after I had sex with Brian. And it was wonderful, amazing, mind-blowing… I didn't want for anything.

Until I met Sam.

Until I fucked Sam. And then I realized too late, what a horrible mistake I'd made by allowing that man to get to me.

Mel knew. I didn't even have to tell her. She'd lived with me for too long to not know, she said. I told her that I still chose her. But she said she didn't choose me. And suddenly, I was alone. Not necessarily physically -- at least not yet -- but emotionally, I was alone.

\--  
_What do you do when a chapter ends?_  
_Do you close the book and never read it again?_  
\--

I was never quite sure if it was the fact that I'd cheated on Mel that was the biggest problem, or if it was the fact that it was with a man.

I apologized ad nauseum, but Mel would hear none of it. There was nothing I could do to make it up to her. I let her treat me like a pack mule when she was on bed rest while she was pregnant with Jenny Rebecca. We pretended to be a happy couple after the baby was born, even though we were living separately. Brian was the only one who knew we'd split, because I'd needed someone to confide in. I'd asked him not to tell anyone, and he didn't. But then everyone else found out the night they tried to surprise us with a party for our tenth anniversary. The celebration that we could have had, if I hadn't fucked it all up. If I hadn't had some kind of identity crisis.

If I hadn't visited one of those "many rooms" in my house that I'd sworn would go unvisited after I'd moved on from the possibility of any sort of a relationship with Brian. Because if I had to choose between men and women, I chose women. And I had to choose. I don't know why, but I'd always felt like I had to. Brian even said it himself: "It's okay to like cock, and it's okay to like pussy. Just not at the same time."

I was a lesbian. I was supposed to like pussy. I wasn't supposed to like cock. I was supposed to be attracted to women. I wasn't supposed to be attracted to men.

And now my mixed-up desires had cost me my marriage.

I couldn't believe that ten years of commitment was gone in the blink of an eye, just like that. And it was all my fault. There was nothing I could do to fix it.

We lived separately for a while. Then, together but separately. Because that was what was best for the kids.

Eventually, Mel moved on and started dating someone else. And I tried to be okay with it. After all, we had the kids to consider. They deserved to not have their mothers hate each other. To have mothers who could at least get along and be civil.

Then, we had a fight. Then, we had sex. But it was a mistake. A momentary lapse in judgment. One of those heat-of-the-moment sort of things.

And we started talking about selling the house. Getting two separate places. Making it final.

I still wasn't sure I wanted it to be final. But I didn't feel like I had a choice. I had to try to move on as well.

But selling the house seemed to be the only thing Mel wasn't sure about.

Then came the bombing. Some homophobic asshole tried to blow up Babylon during the fundraiser for Stop Prop 14, and succeeded in killing or maiming dozens of people, all in the name of hatred. We were late because I hadn't been able to decide what to wear, and the babysitter was late.

We ran into Dusty outside. I wish I'd known that would be the last time I'd ever see her. She wasn't so lucky.

Mel left her cell phone in the car and had to go back to get it. I decided to wait for Mel. We were outside when the bomb went off. Thank God for small miracles.

That small miracle might have saved both of our lives. It wasn't our time to go.

Although it didn't seem like it should have been Dusty's time either. And I was sure Marie felt the same.

\--  
_It's not over 'til it's all been said_  
_It's not over 'til your dying breath_  
_So what do you want them to say when you're gone?_  
_That you gave up or that you kept going on?_  
\--

We realized that night just how short life was. How wrong it was to waste our limited time on this earth being petty. Not when there were so many things that were more important, like family.

That was the night Mel invited me back into her -- no, our -- bed. We looked into each other's eyes and pressed our foreheads together, our arms wrapped around our children. Our little family, reunited once again. And I was so grateful. I finally had the second chance I'd been wanting for nearly a year. This time, I knew what I wanted. And I wouldn't screw it up.

We'd both finally realized what we'd almost lost. Thank God it wasn't too late. Thank God we held on.

\--  
_If it all goes wrong, darling just hold on_  
\--

Song lyrics in italics from "Just Hold On," by Steve Aoki and Louis Tomlinson -- a prompt suggested by the gift recipient. Lyrics written by Steve Aoki, Nolan Lambroza, Eric Rosse, Sasha Yatchenko, and Louis William Tomlinson. I don't own the lyrics, nor anything from Queer as Folk.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, as always, to SandiD for her beta work. :)


End file.
